"Uncross your arms." He made it an order, and she bit her lip, her knuckles whitening as she battled the command. It was a battle she had no hope of winning.
"So it's a casual thing, not true friendship?" he added, running his finger to the center of one breast and slowly circling the engorged point. Goose bumps fled across her skin, and the smell of her arousal was rich and sweet on the strengthening wind.
"Yes," she said, voice breathy, eyes angry.
"Why aren't you afraid that she'll report your presence here to your parents?"
She snorted softly. "Betise hates my parents. They're against the moon dance, against everything the mansion stands for."
Which made Neva's decision to come here all the more suspicious. "But what about other friends? Might she not mention it to them?"
She hesitated, and fear flickered through her pretty eyes. "Maybe."
"Then why didn't you avoid her?"
"Maybe I was just so desperate to see a friendly face."
He shifted his touch to her other breast. She trembled, her skin flushed and hot under his fingertips. "And maybe you had some information for her to pass on."
She frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
He sensed no lie in her words. Whatever the reason for Neva being here, Betise wasn't a part of it. He reached for the moon power again then said, I want you to question her about her attacker, and I want you to report every word back to me, and only me.
And by using the moon power, he'd ensure she couldn't go running back to her employer with any information Betise might give her.
Her eyes practically spat fire. He smiled and slid his hand down her stomach. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm a bastard."
He gently delved the golden triangle of curls. Lord, she was so hot, so moist. He probed deeper, sliding through her slickness, until her muscles pulsed around one finger, then two. Her whole body quivered, and the smell of her need stung his senses, testing his strength, his will. He wanted her every bit as badly, but right now the need to push her into revealing what she knew and who employed her to watch him was stronger than the need to dance with her.
Though he wasn't entirely sure it would remain that way.
He kept stroking her, until her skin was flushed with heat and the fine sweat of desire, and the tremors in her body indicated she was close to the edge.
At that moment, he withdrew his touch and stepped away.
Heat climbed into her cheeks, and she clenched her fists. "Why are you doing this to me?"
His smile was tight. In many respects, he was punishing himself as much as her. "Anticipation is half the pleasure."
"Believe me, it's not."
He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps we should see."
She studied him warily — an aching, golden angel he desperately wanted to lose himself in.
"What do you mean?"
"Go up to my room and climb into bed. You will wait there until I return, and go nowhere else until then."
He made it a command, and she swore again. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and he hastily raised his shields to full. Even so, the trickle of fury that got through nearly blasted his mind. She wasn't kidding when she'd said he'd have to watch himself. With that sort of power, she'd probably be able to fry his brain.
"That could get awfully damn messy if I have to go pee," she muttered eventually.
"You can go to the bathroom. Nowhere else."
"Isn't that so goddamn generous of you?"
"Go," he ordered. "Now."